The Delight Of Strawberry Cake
by sakachan
Summary: Haruka and Michiru have some fun while baking. Pairings: Haruka/Michiru, Usagi/Mamoru. Warnings: yuri, major OOC, where’s the plot? w/ minor citrus.


This is the first Sailor Moon fic that I've written *and* posted (winged pigs will start a hockey league in hell before I post any of the others!). I hope you all like it. C& C, onegai! ^_^  
  
And yes, I am aware that I am a sick, twisted, demented individual. But hey, I couldn't write anything good if I weren't!  
  
Note: Strawberry cake is an inside joke among a mailing list I'm part of. Usually it includes on of the X or TB chara recieving a cake, then going on to have. . . interesting relations with other chara of that series. I've applied here, mainly because I'm bored and have no other life. . . *sweatdrop*  
  
Disclaimers: Sailor Moon is the brain child of Naoko Takeuchi, and belongs to Tokyo Pop Magazine, Pioneer, and some other people I don't know. It does not belong to me (no matter how much I wish it did).  
  
  
  
The Delight of Strawberry Cake  
  
  
  
Haruka sauntered into the small kitchen of the apartment she and Michiru shared. Upon entering, she saw her beloved kanojo happily stirring a bowl of something. She stepped further into the kitchen, delightedly smiling at Michiru.  
  
Michiru glanced up at Haruka, her stirring motions slowing in pace. She smiled back at the blonde. "Yes?"  
  
"Nothing," Haruka replied. She threw she head back and ran her long, powerful fingers through her short, tousled hair. She peered at Michiru from the side of her eyes. Michiru blushed, coyly brushing a wisp of aquamarine hair away from her blue-green eyes.  
  
"Want to help me with this cake?" she asked brightly.  
  
Haruka's smile transformed into a satisfied grin. She nodded and walked over to stand beside Michiru.  
  
"Good. Can you get me a baking pan?"  
  
"No problem!" Haruka beamed. She glanced around the kitchen, determined to fulfill her beloved's wish. "Umm. . . where do we keep the baking pans?"  
  
"In that far cabinet," Michiru giggled, pointing at a group of cabinets near the refrigerator.  
  
"Right!" Haruka stalked over to the cabinets and pulled out a large glass baking pan. She handed it to Michiru. "Here you are, love."  
  
Again, Michiru blushed. "Thank you," she replied. She picked up the bowl and began pouring its contents into the baking pan.  
  
"What are you making?" Haruka asked, leaning her lower back against the side of the counter.  
  
"Strawberry cake."  
  
"Oo~ooh. . ." Haruka grinned sinfully.  
  
"What?" Michiru raised an eyebrow. "You've had my strawberry cake before."  
  
"Yes. . ." Haruka nodded, her blue eyes glittering with desire behind a shade of blonde bangs. She stalked over toward the fridge, sexily leaning against it.  
  
"Do you need anything else for the cake?" she asked, stroking the handle of the fridge seductively.  
  
Michiru shrugged. "I don't think so. . . what do you recommend?"  
  
Haruka's eyes glittered with something not meant for human eyes. They held that same look of lust a vampire gets upon seeing a pool of warm, delicious blood- like hunger, but more sexual. She opened the fridge, taking out a can of whipped cream and a bowl of freshly cut strawberries. She placed them on the counter near Michiru.  
  
"These are good," she said, leaning in closer to the aqua-tressed girl.  
  
Michiru's eyes moved from the strawberries and whipped cream to her tall, blonde lover. "Haruka, are you feeling okay?" she asked, feeling Haruka's forehead.  
  
Haruka grabbed Michiru's hand and brought it to her lips. She stared into Michiru's lovely eyes.  
  
"Of course," she said. With her free hand, she grabbed the can of whipped cream and began to shake it.  
  
Michiru giggled, "Are you thinking what I *think* you're thinking?"  
  
Haruka smiled. "You'll find out soon enough. . ."  
  
With that, she pulled Michiru to the ground, causing the aqua-haired girl to squeak with delight.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Usagi knocked on the door to Haruka and Michiru's apartment. She and Mamoru were to go out on a double date with the lesbian couple, dinner at a Korean barbeque restaurant and a foreign Chinese film. Mamoru had insisted that the four of them go out. Usagi suspected it had something to do with the fact that he had a small crush on the aqua-tressed violinist. This was fine with Usagi, for she herself had an inkling desire for the blonde racer.  
  
Usagi shook the thought of the four of them having a cozy little menage a quatre.  
  
No one answered, so Usagi tried the door again.  
  
Again, no one answered. Usagi glanced at her excessively tall boyfriend, who simply shrugged. "Maybe they're out," he suggested.  
  
Usagi shook her head. "No, we were supposed to pick them up at their place, since Haruka's car is in the shop. We're only a couple minutes early, but knowing them, they should be here."  
  
"Should we try again?"  
  
"Wait. . ." Usagi reached inside her purse, and pulled out a set of keys. They were held together by a keychain in the shape of a rabbit's head. Five silver keys adorned the keychain. One was to her house, one was to Mamoru's apartment, one was to her locker, and two were unknown to Mamoru. Usagi held up one of the silver keys and placed it into the keyhole.  
  
As she turned the key to unlock the door, Mamoru asked playfully, "How'd *you* get a key?"  
  
Usagi blushed. "It's probably because I'm so damn cute." She gave Mamoru an all-knowing smirk, then heard the click that unlocked the apartment. She turned the handle and gave the door a light push, barely peeking into the apartment.  
  
"Haruka? Michiru?" she called timidly into the living room. "Hello? Is anybody home?" Mamoru followed his blonde girlfriend into the apartment, glancing around for any signs of the oddly matched girls.  
  
They stopped in the middle of the living room, in between the kitchen and where the bedrooms would be located. Though, knowing Haruka and Michiru, one of the bedrooms was used as a music room, the other as a shared bedroom with only one very large bed.  
  
Usagi turned her head, hearing faint giggling coming from the kitchen. She glanced at Mamoru, who nodded. They walked side-by-side toward the small kitchen.  
  
Upon entering, Usagi gasped as she saw Haruka and Michiru laying on the floor, Haruka pinning Michiru down with her legs. The blonde was currently licking a mound of whipped cream off of the violinist's stomach, much to Michiru's enjoyment. Both girls were in nothing but black bras and black panties, which were smeared with whipped cream.  
  
At least, Usagi *hoped* it was just whipped cream.  
  
Mamoru cleared his throat. Haruka raised her eyes just enough to see Mamoru and Usagi standing at the entrance of the kitchen. A flush of red crept up the tomboy's neck, spreading to her ears and cheeks.  
  
Michiru giggled. "What is it, Haruka?" she asked, turning her head in the same direction as her lover's glance. Upon seeing Mamoru and Usagi, she shrieked and sat straight up, knocking Haruka off her legs. Haruka went tumbling onto the kitchen floor, laughing.  
  
"Yeah, *now* you act modest," she joshed her partner with a wink. A blush fell upon Michiru's pale cheeks.  
  
"Uh, sorry we're early guys," Usagi said, smiling, averting her eyes to her feet. She could not help but notice the scattered strawberries and stray whipped cream. "We'll just wait outside."  
  
Usagi grabbed Mamoru's arm and began embarrassedly making her way out of the kitchen.  
  
"Wait!" Haruka called out. Usagi stopped and looked at the older blonde, trying to ignore the fact the girl was simply in her black lingerie.  
  
A smile played along Haruka's thin lips. "You know, there's plenty of whipped cream and strawberries left. Why don't the two of you join us?" Her eyes glittered with that vampiric lust she possessed as an idea came into her mind.  
  
Usagi blushed, a bright pink. She glanced up at Mamoru, who had shock and lust plastered across his face. His lips were twitching into a smile, but Usagi could tell he was trying to force it down.  
  
"What do you say, Mamoru?" Haruka said, standing up at her full height of 170 cm. She flaunted her perfectly sculpted body, made more noticeable by the silky black underwear. She tossed her head to the side, her short hair dancing across her face.  
  
"Mamo-chan, you're drooling," Usagi whispered, hoping no one else would hear.  
  
Mamoru wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve, still staring at Haruka's surprisingly feminine body. Michiru went to stand next to her blonde lover, draping her arms around the taller girl in a very intimate fashion. Mamoru's eyes went wide, and Usagi wondered if his nose would start bleeding soon.  
  
"Uh. . . we really should, uh, get going to that movie, since it starts in. . . umm. . . in a few, uh, in half an hour. . ." Mamoru trailed off, stuttering like the horny idiot he was.  
  
"Plenty of time!" Haruka said with a smile. "Aww, c'mon, Mamoru!"  
  
"Uh. . ."  
  
"Usagi, what do you think?" Haruka winked at the younger girl, who blushed once again.  
  
"Well, I don't know. . . I've never done anything like that before, and I might ruin the mood. . ."  
  
Haruka shook her head. "We can teach you, can't we Michiru?" Michiru nodded. "See? What do you say?"  
  
Usagi thought about it for a moment, before finally shrugging. "Sure, why not? Hell, we can catch a later showing and just skip dinner, seeing as there already appears to be food here."  
  
Mamoru stared at his girlfriend in shock. "Usagi? Are you sure?!"  
  
Usagi nodded. "Why not? Tons of girls my age are having pre-marital sex. The way I see it, why not have my first time also be my second and third times?"  
  
At this point, Mamoru's nose began dripping. He quickly held a handkerchief up to his nose as the pure white cloth slowly grew to a deep red.  
  
Usagi giggled and wrapped her arms around Mamoru's waist, slowly pulling him to the kitchen. "Aww, Mamo-chan, you're such a prude! Why can't you have a little fun once in a while? You're a college student, dammit!"  
  
Haruka laughed, pulling Usagi toward her and Michiru, Mamoru in tow. "Yeah, Mamoru, live a little. How often do you get invited to partake in wild, mindblowing sexual activities with three beautiful women?" Her eyes grew dark and wicked. "I mean, other than in vivid wet dreams?"  
  
Mamoru brought the kerchief closer to his nose. He began worrying if he might die of blood loss before the end of the night.  
  
Usagi playfully ripped the handkerchief from Mamoru's grasp. She threw it off into a corner and immediately shoved her tongue down his throat. Which was harder than it sounded, given their severe height differences.  
  
She broke the kiss, though that term did not do it justice, and stared lovingly into Mamoru's lovely cobalt eyes. She turned to look at Haruka and asked, "Okay, so what do I do?"  
  
"Well, for one, you have to strip down to practically nothing. . ." the taller blonde said, shaking the can of whipped cream while she spoke.  
  
Five minutes later, the small kitchen within Haruka and Michiru's apartment was filled with giggling, laughing, and other noises that are not appropriate for younger audiences.  
  
Next door, Mr. Futago Orikasa and his wife, Keiko, wondered what the hell the lovely young couple next door was doing. Michiru seemed like such a nice, quiet girl, and Haruka came off as a well-behaved young man. At least, as well-behaved as any boy could be with such a lovely girl as a roommate.  
  
"Maybe their television is on too loud?" Keiko suggested, idly reading her book.  
  
Futago shrugged. "All I know is that whatever it is, they had better shut it up pretty soon. Some of those noises are disturbing. . ."  
  
  
  
Owari  
  
  
  
[1] "menage a quatre" (men-ahje ah kat) If any of you have heard the term, 'menage a trois,' which is french for 'work of three,' or (in Americanized lingo) 'threesome,' you already have an idea of what this term means. Just so you know, 'quatre' is the french word for 'four,' so you can all guess what 'menage a quatre' means. ^_~  
  
Some of you may wonder why I just didn't say 'foursome'? Simple: 'menage a quatre' sounds a little more articulate. That, and the fact that if I had just stated 'foursome,' I wouldn't be having this lovely little chat with all of you. 


End file.
